


Don't Do It Again

by orphan_account



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:07:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28848801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The second Spencer was out of sight and out of earshot, Hotch had gathered the rest of the team and made them swear not to tell Spencer what was going to happen, not until Hotch was already inside the building. The team had thrown him disapproving looks and Morgan had even threatened to call Spencer right then but, in the end, they gave in to his wishes.The only part that he had failed to account for was Spencer coming back in time to see him walking towards his death.It was one of the hardest things he ever had to do; to keep walking even as he heard Spencer crying out for him to come back.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid
Comments: 2
Kudos: 72





	Don't Do It Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katybecks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katybecks/gifts).



> i hate writing smut with such a passion but it was either this or angst that hit too close with my attachment issues, and I just could not.

The only sound in the seldom-silent house is that of the master bedroom door slamming shut. In that moment, Hotch has never been more grateful for Jessica and how she’s letting Jack stay the night with her; he didn’t need to see his parents fighting, not like this. 

For the entire car ride back home, Spencer had not said a single word to him, blatantly ignoring all of Hotch’s attempts at holding a conversation by stubbornly turning his head to stare out the window. He had hoped by the time they made it back home Spencer would have been ready to talk but the door that had flown shut in front of his face proves him wrong. 

Truth be told, Hotch knew that Spencer had every right to be angry at him; he’s well aware that what he did was wrong, and to a certain degree, almost unforgivable. 

The BAU had been called in for a case that was close to home, in more ways than one. The D.C Metropolitan Police Station had been taken over by a group of masked men, who had gunned down and tied up all of the officers and detectives working in the precinct. One of those detectives being Will LaMontagne Jr, much to the dismay of the entire team. It had only gotten worse from there on out; once Garcia had managed to get a live feed from the building, she frantically called over the rest of the team just in time for them to see a bomb being planted in the middle of the bullpen. 

It certainly didn’t help matters that they profiled the men as being suicidal. 

Like in all hostage situations, they needed to build rapport with the captors and Hotch had taken it upon himself to be the one to do so. It had taken an agonizing and suspenseful two hours but he had managed to persuade the men to come around and to let go of their hostages. 

The only issue was that they wanted to ensure that they still had some form of leverage over the authorities, and that form of leverage was Hotch; all the people in the precinct would be let go, if he gave himself over, no gun and no vest. The men had given him some time to mull over his options but, for Hotch, there was never really a decision to make. If it meant that fifty people could go home to their families that day, he was prepared to sacrifice his own life for it to happen. 

The team, however, had their reservations about his decision and had repeatedly asked him not to, that they could find another way to save everyone. JJ had even pulled him aside and told him there was no point in saving Will, if he marched inside the precinct; a little boy was still going to lose his father that day. 

Her words struck a chord inside of him but Hotch’s mind had been long made up. He was going to walk in there, and there was nobody that could stop him. 

Except for Spencer. 

Which is why Hotch had made up some menial tasks for Spencer to attend to at Garcia’s mobile set-up, which was on the opposite side of their current base of operations.

The second Spencer was out of sight and out of earshot, Hotch had gathered the rest of the team and made them swear not to tell Spencer what was going to happen, not until Hotch was already inside the building. The team had thrown him disapproving looks and Morgan had even threatened to call Spencer right then but, in the end, they gave in to his wishes. 

The only part that he had failed to account for was Spencer coming back in time to see him walking towards his death. 

It was one of the hardest things he ever had to do; to keep walking even as he heard Spencer crying out for him to come back.

Everything had turned out okay in the end, though, and the only casualty they had was one of the masked men. 

Now, all Hotch had to do was beg for Spencer to forgive him. 

With his hand secure on the doorknob, Hotch takes a deep breath and braces himself as he pushes open the door. He finds Spencer standing near the edge of their bed, his back towards the door as he fumbles with the tie around his neck. 

Hotch strides over to him quickly before slotting himself behind Spencer, his hands coming up to undo the tie with familiar ease. 

“I’m still mad at you.” Spencer murmurs as he takes the strip of fabric from Hotch’s hands.

Against his better judgement, Hotch lets out a groan as he turns to face Spencer. 

“C’mon Spencer,” he says, “Can’t you understand why I did it?”

It’s clearly the wrong thing to say, Hotch realizes as he watches Spencer stiff up, anger rapidly spreading across the features of his face like a wildfire. 

“I’m sorry I cannot understand how you felt the need to lie to my face and walk into a hostage situation.” he spits out.

“Spencer,” Hotch says, “I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything in return. He doesn’t even acknowledge Hotch’s apology. All he does is redirect his attention towards his belt as he pulls out his standard issue handcuffs and the key, setting them on top of the nightstand. 

Before Hotch can figure out what is happening, he feels Spencer’s hands skim over his own belt as he tugs out Hotch’s set of handcuffs and key, placing them on the nightstand as well. 

“What are you doing?” Hotch questions.

“Be quiet.” Spencer says harshly as he yanks Hotch’s belt out of the loops, “And get on the bed.”

Not knowing what else to do, Hotch follows through with his request, eyeing Spencer strangely as he does so. As he settles down against the bed, Spencer straddles Hotch’s thighs. His hands trail up to Hotch’s dress shirt and soon he’s ripping the fabric apart, ignoring the set of buttons that fly across the room. 

“Hey!” Hotch protests, “That’s my shirt!”

Before he can attempt to sit up, Spencer pushes him back down onto the bed with a hand against the centre of his chest.

“Shut up.” he says as he stares down at him, “Do you remember the traffic light system?”

“Yes.” Hotch answers, “But what does that...”

Whatever he was going to say dies down on his tongue as Spencer leans over the side of the bed and reaches towards the nightstand. 

“Colour?” Spencer asks as he dangles both sets of handcuffs from one hand.

The sight of the handcuffs combined with the dark look in Spencer’s eyes leaves his mouth dry as he struggles to answer the question he was just asked. 

“Green.” he says as he holds out his hands, wrists together and palms out. 

As he watches Spencer wrap the first cuff around one of his wrists, he can feel his breathing getting more and more shallow with each second that passes by. Once the first cuff is secured, Spencer hooks his fingers around the metal chain as he drags Hotch’s hand upwards to attach the empty cuff around one of the bedposts. 

By the time Spencer finishes doing the same to his other wrist, Hotch feels as though he has stopped breathing altogether. 

Experimentally, Hotch flexes his fingers and finds that when he does so, the metal bites deep into the skin of his wrists. 

For a moment, nothing else happens and the two of them fall silent; Spencer sitting back onto Hotch’s thighs, his head tilted towards the side as he rakes his eyes over Hotch’s body. The longer he stares, the more nervous Hotch begins to get. 

Then, Spencer reaches down and undoes the zipper of Hotch’s trousers before slipping them down the distance necessary. It’s almost embarrassing, the way his boxers are already tented in anticipation and Spencer hasn’t even kissed him, much less touched him. 

His hands slide over his abdomen, leaving his skin buzzing. The sensation is only heightened once Spencer replaces the soft touch of his fingers with his nails drawing angry red lines in his skin. Once his fingers reach the top of his waistband, he wastes no time in hauling the boxers off of Hotch. 

The cool air against his cock makes him hiss but it’s quickly soothed by Spencer wrapping his warm palm around it. He lets out a low groan; the noise coming out from somewhere deep in his chest. Above him, Spencer remains quiet even as he starts stroking his cock, pointedly not looking at Hotch’s face.

Spencer bends forward and the only warning Hotch gets is the feeling of his breath over the head of his cock before Spencer latches his lips around it. As he drools over his cock, Hotch starts to pant, his chest rising and failing rapidly. The handcuffs rattle against the wooden headboard as he jerks around. 

He takes a glance down and finds Spencer’s mouth stretched obscenely wide around his cock, one hand gripping Hotch steady at the base, while the other goes to palm himself in his trousers. God, it makes him want to bury his hand in Spencer’s hair and shove him farther down his cock, make him gag on it. At the image of his sweet, dirty boy getting off on swallowing his cock, Hotch’s panting is replaced with breathy moans. 

It makes him grow red with embarrassment when he realizes how loud he’s being. He turns his head into his arm, and bites down on the skin. 

Spencer must have seen that because right at that instance his mouth disconnects from Hotch’s cock; a string of spit being the only thing still connecting his cock to Spencer’s red lips. 

The sight only has him biting down harder, barely suppressing the groan that’s bubbling up inside of him.

Before he can even beg Spencer to keep going, a hand strikes down against his cheek, leaving behind a stinging sensation in its wake. The pain should have been enough to make him call out red but, all it did was make him more aroused. 

“Don’t do that.” he says as he grabs ahold of Hotch’s chin, digging his thumb deep into the red mark that’s most likely blooming across his face, “I want to hear you.”

“What do you want to hear?” Hotch rasps outs. 

As Spencer releases his face, he sits back against Hotch's thighs. His fingers clench around Hotch’s cock in an almost too tight grip but he can’t find it in himself to complain. Soon, he begins to stroke up and down. At an upstroke, he digs his thumb in at the head and it makes Hotch keen at the feeling.

“Tell me how this feels.”

Hotch’s fingers catch around the chains of the handcuffs and as he tugs down on them harshly, he can feel some of the circulation in his wrists cutting off. He can’t find it in himself to care about that, though. All he cares about in that moment is the way Spencer is twisting his hand up and down. 

“Good, it’s— really good,” he struggles to answer, as his grip on the chains tightens, “Oh God, please, Spencer, please?”

  
  


For a second, it seems as though Spencer is about to let him finish, let him come, but then he lowers his hand enough to have his fingers encircling the base of his cock and effectively cuts off his impending orgasm. 

“And how does that feel?” Spencer asks as he cocks his head to the side, patronizingly. 

“Please, just let me come, Spence,” he begs as he feels tears leak out of the corners of his eyes, “I’m sorry.”

His begging and pleading apparently mean nothing to Spencer. If anything it only serves as incentive for him to pull his hand away completely, causing a whimper to escape Hotch’s mouth. 

“What are you apologizing for?” Spencer questions as he glares down at Hotch, “For almost making me a widower? For almost making Jack an orphan? For almost killing the only other sibling Jessica had left?”

“Yes!” he exclaims in a pathetic attempt to get Spencer to touch him again, “All of it! Please, I won’t do it again. I won’t, please.”

His response is still not enough for him; his hands remain stubbornly atop of Hotch’s stomach.

“What do you think the lesson is here?” he asks, sounding so put together while Hotch is falling apart beneath him, “To send me back to the office, instead of Garcia’s set-up, when you decide on suicide mission? To have Morgan distract me, while you walk to your death?

“To lie to my face instead of just omitting the truth?” Spencer bellows out.

His words make Hotch’s insides twist up uncomfortably. For the first time since they returned home, he truly regrets doing what he did, how he did it. 

“No, no,” he mumbles as he shakes his head, ignoring the steady stream of tears falling into his hairline, “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

Hotch doesn’t know how this apology was any different from the others but it makes Spencer break his resolve. The stern line at his brows fades away and his eyes soften. He wraps his fingers around Hotch’s cock again and starts on an unrelenting pace. It makes his breath hitch and it doesn’t take awfully long before Hotch is tossing his head back against the pillow, his back arching up as he comes messily over his stomach and Spencer’s hand. 

As he’s coming down from his orgasm, his breath slowly evening out, he feels Spencer unlock the cuffs. His nimble fingers rub soothing circles into his wrists that Hotch didn’t realize were aching until now. Once he feels blood flowing without hindrance, Spencer lets go of his hands before moving to cup the sides of Hotch’s face. He presses a firm kiss onto his mouth, Hotch letting out a content sigh as he does so. 

“Don’t ever do that again.” Spencer whispers as he pulls away, every trace of anger replaced with raw fear, “You can’t do that to me.”

“I’m sorry.” Hotch murmurs again, half into Spencer’s mouth, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

**Author's Note:**

> leave me a comment or a kudo, and find me on tumblr at degrassi-fanatic


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